


Calypso's Boys

by woodsgotwood



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Harry Houdini is a son of Hermes, Love/Hate Relationship, Sir Francis Drake as a son of Poseidon, Unrequited Love, but caleo is endgame, caleo - Freeform, calypso has met many demigods, calypso's curse, historical demigods, short chapters woops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodsgotwood/pseuds/woodsgotwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the many men who have visited Calypso's Island, from Odysseus to Leo Valdez. Short one-shots depicting the time that she has spent on her island with the boys that the gods have dropped off there, and how each one of them has changed her. Calypso paired with different historical demigods, but with Caleo as endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Odysseus

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have probably already gathered, this fic will be about some of the men that have found themselves on Calypso's island. Certain characters are canon compliant when it comes to Percy Jackson (Like Leo, Percy, and Sir Francis Drake thanks to a throwaway line in HoH) and others are from myths (Odysseus) and of course because I thought they'd be interesting (Houdini). Each chapter will be focused on a different demigod. Enjoy :)

Calypso had to admit, he looked pretty rough when he first washed up on her shore just holding on to timber that looked like the remnants of ship. However, despite his initial appearances she felt compelled to help him.  
She kneeled next to the man and found that he was breathing. His clothing was in tatters and he was bruised and bloodied, but it was nothing she couldn't fix. She brought him into her cave and laid him down on cot, then tended to his wounds.

"The gods must have brought you here for a reason," she said to him as she dabbed at a cut on his temple. She knew that he could not hear her, but the simple fact that she had someone to talk to now comforted her. She had been alone on the island for so long, and now she wondered if the Olympians were finally granting mercy on her. Perhaps this man was to be her companion, someone to finally keep her company.

On the third day on the island he finally stirred, groaning and holding his aching head. Calypso, who had been sitting beside his bed the whole time, sprung to action. She brought him a draught of healing potion she had made out of the herbs from her garden and pushed it into his hands.

"Here, drink this," she said, "It will take away the pain."

He obliged, and when he was finished he looked up at her. His eyes were a brilliant hazel, powerful and wise beyond his years. Just looking into those intense eyes made her heart flutter.

"Where am I?" he said.

"You're on Ogygia. There was an accident and you washed ashore here. Do you remember who you are?" she said.

He nodded slowly, "Odysseus, son of Laertes," he said softly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, "An accident, yes, I remember an accident," he said, "My crew betrayed my orders, they slaughtered the sacred cows of Apollo and ate them. Then Zeus unleashed his fury upon us. My ship was destroyed along with the rest of my men. I tried holding to a piece of wood for a wrath, but the storm pushed me towards Charybdis. I haven't a clue how I escaped her."

Calypso reached out and took his hand reassuringly, "Someone on Olympus must be watching over you," she replied, tracing circles on his palm with her thumb, "They knew that I can watch over you and take care of you."

Odysseus smiled, "You never told me who you were."

"I am Calypso, daughter of Atlas."

Odysseus' eyes lit up, "I knew that you were too beautiful to be a mortal. Thank you for taking care of me, my lady. How can I ever repay you?"

Calypso bit her lip and looked down at their entwined hands to hide her blush, "It's nothing, I assure you. It what any decent person would do."

Odysseus sat up with much difficulty, and once he was upright he settled himself so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed and facing towards her, "Oh, I'm not so sure about that anymore. I've been traveling for a while now, and most people have been a lot less accommodating than you."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? That sounds like quite a story."

And so, not for the first time and definitely not for his last, Odysseus recounted his story to her, of Polyphemus and Aeneas and of Circe and everywhere in between. Calypso listened intently, and she knew more and more that the longer she listened the more she fell in love with him. He was so brave and so wise, a soldier and a sailor but incredibly intelligent as well. She couldn't help it - she was smitten.

After the story ended there was a comfortable silence as Odysseus grasped her hands in his. He finally broke it when he smiled at her, shaking his head like he couldn't believe his luck, "So, now that you understand just how grateful I am - how can I repay you?"

A warm feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she wondered if she dared answer the way she really wanted to. She knew that it was so much to ask of him, but she couldn't bear the loneliness anymore.

"Will you stay with me?" she said finally.

His face broke into a wide grin, "Of course, my lady."

And he did stay with her. For seven years they tended to her garden, hunted the animals in the forest, and spent each night together. It was bliss, pure bliss.

She was starting to think it couldn't get any better, but then Hermes arrived. She was tending to her flower garden, the sun setting and the moonlace beginning to glow faintly. She crouched in the dirt with her spade, and she heard Odysseus out in the surf spearing fish. She was humming a song quietly to herself, but then stopped when she saw two winged-sandaled.

She looked up at the Messenger God, standing up to her full height and brushing the dirt from the hem of her dress, "Good evening, Lord Hermes. To what do I owe the pleasure? I don't usually have visitors on this island."

Hermes gave a small smile, but it faltered and was gone quickly, "Actually, that is what this visit is about. Your visitor," he said.

Calypso laughed, looking over to Odysseus on the shore with the waves breaking around his legs, "Odysseus?" she said, "I wouldn't call him just a 'visitor' anymore. I think it's a little late for that title, don't you think?"

Hermes, however, was not as amused as she. His mouth was still in a straight line, and Calypso felt her smile disappeared as she realized that whatever Hermes had come to say was serious.

"Calypso, has Odysseus ever told you about his wife and child on Ithaca?" he asked.

Calypso shrugged, "Yes, but he told me that he would be staying here. With the war and his journey on the seas it's been a long time since he's seen them. Time does move different here on Ogygia, but surely his wife and child must think him dead?"

"That's the problem," said Hermes, "Penelope's suitors have grown restless and Ithaca dearly needs its king. Odysseus needs to return to his home."

Calypso crossed her arms, "Ogygia is his home now."

Hermes shook his head, "You have to let him go, Calypso."

The conversation went on for a while after that, but it made no further progress. Finally, after many tears and uncomfortable reassurances from Hermes, she finally gave up.

The next day supplies for a small, one-man raft washed ashore. She watched from the edge of her cave as he constructed his raft. It took him no time.

When she saw that he was done she walked over to the shore to see him away. She gave a small smile to him, but felt nothing but an aching sadness in her heart. Odysseus, however, had a light in his eyes that betrayed his somber expression. She could see how excited he was to be returning back to his home. She could never choose to take that from him.

"Thank you so much for having me," he said, taking her hands in his. Calypso nodded and looked towards the sand. She was afraid to speak, knowing that her voice would betray her. She was certain that if she opened her mouth she would start to cry.

Odysseus took two of his fingers under her chin and lifted her head so that she was looking straight at him. He could certainly see the tears in her eyes now.

"Hey, don't be sad, okay?" he said, "It was an adventure."

Then he kissed her long and hard for the last time.


	2. Sir Francis Drake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The name is Drake," he said, pulling his hand away much to her dismay, "Francis Drake - Son of Poseidon, Captain of the Judith, and English Privateer. Although, the Spaniards have a much different opinion of me. To them, I am the most feared pirate sailing these seven seas." He flashed her a brilliant smile and rested his hands on his hips in an incredibly cocky way._
> 
> _"The most feared pirate, huh?" she said, "If that is true, then what exactly are you doing on my island?" She crossed her arms across her chest and raised her eyebrows inquisitively._
> 
> _Drake ran his hand through his hair, chuckling nervously, "Yeah, about that..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple liberties have been taken with this particular chapter. The fact that Sir Francis Drake was mentioned in HoO by Calypso was the main inspiration for this story, however there are a couple of discrepancies with what Riordan wrote. In HoO Calypso states that Drake's sweetheart was named Elizabeth, who was historically his second wife. However, that would make him like forty when he met Calypso and idk I just think that's kinda weird considering Calypso had the hots for Percy when he was fourteen? So I made him 23 in this story and made his sweetheart be his first wife, Mary.
> 
> Also, if you've never heard about Sir Francis Drake before, you should check him out because he was super badass. It was never said in any of the PJO books who his godly parent was, but I decided that Poseidon would be the best fit considering he ended up being in charge of the British Navy. But seriously, look him up. He was such an awesome pirate that the British government hired him to take down the Spanish Armada and he totally did. So I completely understand why Calypso liked him.

"Bloody fuckin' bollocks! Damn Spaniards and their giant ships and their fancy equipment and damn sea monsters fucking me in the arse."

Calypso's ears perked up in confusion. She sat in the hammock near her garden, writing in her diary like she did every day. However, not every day did she find herself hearing a loud, vulgar gentleman swearing on the shore.

It had been over a thousand years since Odysseus, and she was beginning to get used to her loneliness once more. But when she heard that voice it gave her hope. Granted, it was not a great deal of hope judging from the words the man was saying, but at least it was another person to share in her misery with.

She threw her diary on the hammock and ran to the beach, bare feet kicking up the sand wildly. She stopped ten feet in front of the man, purely in shock at what she was seeing.

A man struggled to his feet, reddish-brown hair wild and sopping wet. He wore a low-cut cotton shirt with a brown vest over it with tight, high-waisted pants and boots that went all the way up past his knees. He had a short, groomed red beard and a sword sheathed at his side. The man noticed Calypso's presence and looked over to her in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, sorry miss. I really didn't mean for anyone to hear that," he spoke, but Calypso was still in shock over the man's attire. She fanned herself, knowing that she was blushing. She couldn't help herself, though. Those pants were so tight, and it wasn't like the rest of his clothing left much to the imagination, either.

"Um, well, do you think you could tell me where I am?" he asked her after realizing that she was not going to respond to his other comment any time soon.

Calypso found her voice, "Ogygia," she said, "It's the island where the gods have banished me. Usually I am the only one on the island, but sometimes people wash up here."

The man nodded, "Ogygia," he said, brows furrowing, "You wouldn't happen to be the goddess Calypso?"

Calypso bit her lip nervously, "That is who I am," she said coyly, "And you are?"

He walked towards her and reached for her hand. He lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the spot above her knuckles, his beard tickling her skin. Her face flushed even more, things certainly must have changed a lot from Odysseus' time.

"The name is Drake," he said, pulling his hand away much to her dismay, "Francis Drake - Son of Poseidon, Captain of the Judith, and English Privateer. Although, the Spaniards have a much different opinion of me. To them, I am the most feared pirate sailing these seven seas." He flashed her a brilliant smile and rested his hands on his hips in an incredibly cocky way.

"The most feared pirate, huh?" she said, "If that is true, then what exactly are you doing on my island?" She crossed her arms across her chest and raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

Drake ran his hand through his hair, chuckling nervously, "Yeah, about that..."

"Go on," she said.

"I kind of, maybe, might have gotten my shipped captured in the Indies," he said, wincing.

"Hmm, interesting," she said, trying to suppress her smile though it was no use - she was simply too happy to have someone new to talk to, "These 'Spaniards' you speak of, don't tell me that they were the ones that captured your vessel?"

"Beautiful and psychic, huh?" he said with a smile.

And there went her heart.

She brought Drake back to her cave to make sure that all his wounds were tended to. It wasn't that bad, only a couple scratches and a few bruised ribs. While she made a drink to heal the bruising on his ribs, he told her the story of how exactly his ship became captured. Apparently he was considered the greatest sailor in Great Britain, wherever that was, and was especially impressive since he was only 23. He had sailed across the Ocean to the Americas (again, wherever that was) but was thrown off-course fleeing a sea monster that had a bit of a grudge against his father. Unfortunately, that made him sail straight into enemy territories.

"So, that was a bit of a dilemma, there," he said, "But my men fought long and hard and we were certainly valiant." He shrugged, eating the piece of bread that Calypso had offered him while she dressed his wounds.

She gave a small smile, "I bet you were," she said, "You remind me of someone that I used to know."

"Odysseus?" he said.

Calypso stopped what she was doing and looked up to him, confused. "How could you possibly know that?" she said.

Drake shrugged, "It's not exactly common knowledge, but it's close," he said, "Not only demigods like me know of Odysseus' exploits, but many mortals as well. They wrote a book about him, you see." He finished his bread by stuffing the rest of it in his mouth rather unattractively.

"A book?" she said, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. Did everybody know about how Odysseus had broken her heart and left her for his mortal wife? They must have thought of her as so childish, or even worse, a homewrecker. She deflated as she thought more about it, messing around with the dressings she had applied to a gash on his arm.

"Yeah, pretty popular, to be honest," he said, mouth full of bread. He then looked up to see how upset she was, and swallowed.

"You okay, m'lady?" he said, resting his hand against her cheek.

She shrugged, "I don't know. You would think that after a few thousand years I would be over it already, but I suppose nothing is never that easy."

"Well, if makes you feel any better, when I heard the story I thought Odysseus was a right wanker," he said matter-of-factly.

Calypso giggled, nuzzling her face into his hand, "He kind of was, wasn't he?" she said.

He smiled, then gave her a peck on the lips, "Oh, he was. And trust me, I'm an amazing judge of character."

They talked a little while longer, mostly about the arrangement she had on the island. She showed him around the garden and he looked on appreciatively. She was excited to admit that he was a lot more forward than Odysseus, too, taking her by the arm and pushing her gently against a tree. They kissed for a long time.

The next day, however, Francis Drake woke up a little unsettled. He walked over towards the garden where Calypso was tending and sat down beside her.

"I gotta be honest with you, love," he said in that funny accent that she had grown to like so much.

"What is it?" she said, setting down her tools to look over to him.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be another Odysseus, you know?" he said, "I just want to let you know that I can't stay here. I have a life in England, a nice ship, a girl," he added the last part a little unsurely.

"A girl?" she said, raising her eyebrow.

He nodded, "Yeah, a girl. Her name is Mary. I may be a pirate, but I'm not cold."

Calypso stared down at the dirt, rolling her jaw, "At least you're honest about your deception," she said stiffly. She stood up, grabbing her tools and walking back towards her cave.

"Calypso, wait," he said, walking after her.

Calypso groaned, throwing her tools on the ground, "I can't believe I thought you would be different," she said, putting her hands on her hips, turning around on her heel and getting up in his face.

"I am different," he said.

She shook her head and scoffed, "Yeah, you're paler," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Calypso, please, I'm sorry," he said, grabbing her arms, "I just don't want to lie to you."

She sighed. She knew that he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. She felt like a fool, and she cursed the gods knowing that this was all their fault, it had to be.

Drake reached for her hands and grabbed them tight, "I really am sorry, but I have to get back to my life. But just because I have to leave eventually, doesn't mean I have to leave now."

She looked back up to his face and saw that he was sincere. He smiled at her and rested his forehead against hers. "So what do you say?" he said.

She couldn't say no to those green eyes. They spent three weeks together on the island and it was fantastic to her. But when it came time for him to leave, she noticed with a horrible pain in her chest that, this time, the gods simply sent the raft. They had been expecting him, and he didn't have to waste his time constructing the raft himself. She thought it would be easier this time considering that he hadn't spent seven years with her, but it was just as hard.

Drake stared as the small boat washed ashore and stuck in the damp sand. He looked over to Calypso, somber.

"Good-byes are always too painful," he said, then kissed her. Then he left. As she watched him sail away she realized that she was glad he hadn't truly said good-bye. He was right, they were painful and she hated them.


	3. Harry Houdini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The man shakily sat up, his head nodding as though he was incredibly dizzy. Calypso was at a loss of what she could possibly do, and she was about to ask him how she could help, but was cut off when he spoke._
> 
> _"How embarrassing," he said, struggling to his feet. Calypso averted her eyes so that she would stare squarely at his face as his nudity was now fully apparent. He rested a shaking hand on the open lid of the coffin, "I'm the greatest escape artist, and yet I couldn't-"_
> 
> _His words were cut short as his arm gave out beneath him and his eyes rolled into his head. He collapsed back into the coffin, his head slamming into the edge of the coffin and his body crumpling as it hit the ground.  
> _

It was the middle of the night, and it was by luck that Calypso was awake. She had slept for three hours, but some nagging feeling in her mind kept her from sleeping soundly and she decided that she might as well tend to the moonlace if she were to be awake at that hour of the night. As she was walking towards her garden she kept hearing a thumping noise. After a couple minutes of hearing the noise, she finally decided that it couldn't be an animal or the wind and that she should investigate.

She walked around the beach, using her ears to guide her. As the thumping got louder, she began to hear muffled yells and curses that seemed to be in a couple different languages. She finally saw something washed up against the shore with the waves breaking against it. She ran to it and saw with surprise that it was a coffin, polished black and with a chain and padlock keeping it shut.

The lid of the coffin shook with the force of hands and feet being pounded against it. Calypso ran back to her cave and grabbed a hammer. She wished she had something else that would be better at helping whoever was stuck in the coffin, but she unfortunately did not find much use for heavy tools on her island. She ran back to the beach and began to hit the padlock repeatedly with her hammer.

The struggle inside ceased, and she hoped that it was because the person inside knew that she was going to get him out and not because they died or lost consciousness.

Finally the lock broke and the chain fell from the coffin. She pushed the lid opened to see a man, muscular and dark, with a type of shirt lying next to him and different shackles and locks strewn around them. It seemed as though he had escaped from all of them, but as Calypso saw that he was completely naked, well, she could barely believe that he had been able to do so.

The man shakily sat up, his head nodding as though he was incredibly dizzy. Calypso was at a loss of what she could possibly do, and she was about to ask him how she could help, but was cut off when he spoke.

"How embarrassing," he said, struggling to his feet. Calypso averted her eyes so that she would stare squarely at his face as his nudity was now fully apparent. He rested a shaking hand on the open lid of the coffin, "I'm the greatest escape artist, and yet I couldn't-"

His words were cut short as his arm gave out beneath him and his eyes rolled into his head. He collapsed back into the coffin, his head slamming into the edge of the coffin and his body crumpling as it hit the ground.

Calypso sprung into action, a stretcher appearing by her side. She grabbed the boy and pulled him onto the stretcher with much difficulty. Despite his short frame, he was bulky and heavy, She finally got him onto the stretcher and realized that her white dress was soaked with blood. Her heart started to race and she walked quickly to her cave, the stretcher following behind her.

She grabbed her medical supplies and began to tend to his wounds. The only thing that seemed to be that bad was his head, but she stopped the bleeding pretty quickly. She assumed that he was suffering from oxygen deprivation as well, but unfortunately there was nothing she could do about that.

With his wounds tended to all she could do was wait for him to wake up - however long that might take.

It took four and a half days for him to finally wake up. Calypso had decided to stop keeping watch beside his bedside around the second day. She told herself that she couldn't just keep her life on hold whenever some handsome guy washed ashore. She had a garden to tend to, and a diary to keep, and, well, it got a little boring just staring at from from hours on end, no matter how attractive he was.

She walked back into the cave on the fifth day to put away her diary. She walked past the bed to see that it was empty. She stared at it in confusion for a while, wondering where the man could have possibly went to.

She set her diary on her bed then walked out of the cave, keeping her eyes peeled. After much searching, she finally found the man in the garden, staring at her flowers.

Seeing him standing up was a bit surprising to her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but his shoulders were broad and muscular, and his chest stretched the fabric of the cotton shirt that she had clothed him in. His golden necklace rested right over his heart, with the pendant sparkling in the sunlight. Calypso had spent a while staring at while he was still unconscious, it was two triangles connected facing opposite direction to make a shape like a star. She wondered what it meant.

The man sensed her presence and looked over to her with a smile, "So you're the one who's been taking care of me?" he said.

She nodded, "Yeah, and you should really be resting right now. You hit your head pretty hard, you probably have a concussion."

"Oh, I know I have a concussion," he said, "It really isn't that bad, though."

Calypso rolled her eyes, "Not bad for a manly man like you, huh?"

He shrugged, "Your words, not mine. What's your name?"

"Calypso," she said, "And this is the island of Ogygia. Heroes who need a little help sometimes wash up here. And you are?"

"Ehrich," he said, "But I'm pretty known as Harry. Son of Hermes."

She smiled, "It's nice to meet you, Harry. I've never met a son of Hermes before," she said, but then the thought of the last time she had seen Hermes gave her a churning feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was a long time ago, yes, but it still hurt to think of the day when Odysseus was taken from her.

Harry smiled at her, but his face grew pale and he rested his hand on his shoulder to steady himself, "Some rest might be a good idea, actually," he said, "I am feeling a little nauseated."

Calypso brought him over to her hammock nearby, where he laid down and took a deep breath. An invisible servant brought her a chair to sit in and she set it next to him. She gently raised his head so she could take a look at the wound, which had healed nicely but she wanted to make sure.

"I can escape the underworld with little trouble and yet a small bump of the head is enough to bring me down," he said with a chuckle.

"You escaped the underworld?" she said.

He nodded, then winced and rubbed his temples, "Yes, it was an important quest for Olympus. They needed someone to get in and out of the Underworld without Hades knowing, and I was the best man for the job."

"Because you're the greatest escape artist, right?" she said, resting her hands back on her lap.

He raised his eyebrows in delight, "You've heard of me?"

She shook her head, "You said so right before you collapsed," she said, laughing. She felt a little bad about laughing at his misfortune, but was soon comforted by the fact that he laughed along as well.

"I don't remember that, but I'll take your word for it," he said with a chuckle, "You know, you are very beautiful. What do you feel about being my assistant in my act? You get to tie me up and shackle me every day, if that sweetens the deal." He tried to have an expression of flirtation on his face, but it was unfortunately lessened by the look of pain he had, as well.

Calypso pursed her lips, "As nice as that sounds, I'm no ones assistant," she said, "Besides, I couldn't leave this island even if I wanted to." She sighed, playing with the fabric of her dress.

Harry's face grew sympathetic, "Why not?"

She bit her lip, "It's a long story," she said, "But the Olympians imprisoned me here as punishment for the deeds of my father in the last great war against the Titans. It's not the worst prison one could have, but I do get lonely sometimes." She decided not to mention that occasionally the Olympians brought her some company from time to time. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea, and not to mention that it was too painful for her to talk about.

"I've escaped from much more heavily guarded prisons before, maybe I could help you escape this one," he said softly after a period of silence.

Calypso smiled at him and took his hand, "That's really nice of you to offer, but it's impossible. This is my fate for eternity, and whatever the gods wish it is usually granted."

He shook his head, "You haven't met me. I will figure out a way, and I will come back for you."

Calypso smiled, but on the inside she didn't believe it. She didn't want to get her hopes up, and she knew that it was impossible. She didn't have the heart to tell him, though. He seemed so dead set on helping her, and it was such a surprising change from Odysseus and Drake that she let herself listen to his words, his plans that he had for the both of them.

The next week was nothing but recovery for Harry, who quickly grew bored and restless. She couldn't count how many times she would walk into the cave to see him doing push-ups on the floor or some other type of physical activity. She would scold him and escort him back to the bed or the hammock, much to his dismay. After a few minutes of his pouting he would get over it and they would talk about everything and anything. Harry told her all about what was going on in the world, and what he thought his place was to be in it. He wanted to be famous, he told her, but he was currently only working small shows for small audiences with his brother. He was a vaudeville act to the mortals, but to the gods he was one of the greatest demigods that had ever lived.

He told her all about his various quests and the enemies that he had made. One particular group that had taken a disliking to him was the Spiritualist cult of Hecate, who were doing seances to get money off of mortals, and raising the dead to do their nefarious deeds for them. It was a group of them that had imprisoned him in the coffin and thrown him into the sea.

"I can't wait until I get to see the look on their faces when they see I survived," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Then they will get what's coming to them.

Calypso gave a small smile, but didn't say anything. The thought of him leaving made her heart ache, but she knew it was inevitable.

The next week he was declared fully recovered. He whooped and celebrated with a ran across the beach, holding on to her hand and dragging her along with him. She laughed as she tried to keep up, but she ended up tripping up over her feet more often that not. She fell into him, and Harry caught her and they both fell into the sand, laughing.

They laid there, staring at the bright blue sky and holding each other. Calypso wanted to break the silence and she desperately wanted to ask him to stay here with her forever, but before she could open her mouth he kissed her. The second that his lips were on hers all words were forgotten.

Harry spent his days exercising in the morning and helping Calypso afterwards. He tended to the garden with her, he fished and caught food, and he helped her prepare it. She told him that it was no need, that the invisible servants prepared the food, but he told her that he wanted to contribute. She had no qualms, though, since the food he made was delicious.

Out of the three men that had visited her island, he was certainly the most hyperactive. Though he had his workouts in the morning and the activity afterwards, he would still often come up to her bouncing on the balls of his feet and asking if she wanted to go swimming with him. She could never turn him down, of course, even if he had the energy that went on even after the sun went down.

She tried to work up the courage to ask him to stay with her, but she always felt that it was not the right time. She was too afraid to be rejected once again.

She tell by the third week that he had grown bored, and that was what scared her the most. She tried to talk to him about more things, ask him questions and suggested new activities to do, but she knew that it couldn't last. She knew that it could never last. Especially when he knew of this island as a prison, and he was an escape artist. He hated to be tied down.

So she wasn't surprised when the raft washed ashore on the first day of the fourth week. Calypso tried hard not to cry as he hugged her and held her and told her his goodbyes.

"I promise that I will return," he said, "I will help you escape this prison, you deserve better."

Calypso shook her head, "No man ever returns to Ogygia," she said.

"I am not like other men, though," he said with a big smile, "If any man knows about escape, it's me."

She didn't want to believe it. Hope was too painful for her. She resigned herself to loneliness once more, knowing that when he returned to his life he would become famous, fight more foes, and meet a woman that wasn't imprisoned. A woman free and one to escape with him.

She didn't cry, this time, when he raft floated out into the sea with her boy on it. The sun illuminated the dark brown highlights in his hair and made his golden necklace shine. She wondered who would be next, and why the gods were so cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Houdini was mentioned in the Lightning Thief as being a demigod and one of the few who have escaped the Underworld. Remembering this, I knew that I had to have him in this story. Again, it does not say in the books who his godly parent was, but I thought that Hermes was a pretty good fit.
> 
> Next chapter marks the beginning of the Percy Jackson fanfiction-part of the story so yay!


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